


black cat

by anthropologicalhands



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Gen, Sasuke as a cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2019-05-17 02:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14823425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthropologicalhands/pseuds/anthropologicalhands
Summary: Sasuke visits his wife and daughter.





	1. i

Sakura is used to seeing the cats Sasuke sends to look after Sarada—they rarely stay long, nor much in sight—usually at best she sees the flicker of a tail or a rustle in the bushes. They do come out around Sarada though, and she loves them—loves playing, cuddling and carrying them. But they always manage to escape before she can bring them into the house.

Which means that when Sarada sidles through the back door with her arms around a cat almost as large as she is, Sakura takes notice.

“Where did you get that cat, Sweetie?” she asks, laying down the knife she was using to slice bell peppers.

This particular cat is skinny, with short black fur and yellow eyes. It does not wear anything that would indicate that it is a  _ninneko,_ nor any collars that would suggest that it belongs to one of her neighbors. However, it is obligingly limp in Sarada’s hold, not seeming to mind that half of its body is dragging on the ground.

“It came into the yard,” says Sarada happily, setting the cat down on the hardwood.

The cat, surprisingly, shows no inclination to bolt upon being released from Sarada’s hold. Instead, he flops down right where Sarada set him. Sarada crouches down to pet him, from head to tail.

“ _Gently_ , Sarada,” scolds Sakura, because Sarada’s pats are a little too forceful the way young children’s are. The cat however, does not seem to mind, its tail coming up and flicking at her nose. She falls heavily on her bottom, giggling.

Sakura comes around the kitchen counter to also crouch by the cat, inspecting it. He doesn’t look like a stray: too well-groomed. He sits up at her approach, and she could swear he was studying her face as intently as she studies him.

“Sa-chan, you shouldn’t have brought the cat inside. What if it belongs to someone?”

“No he doesn’t,” says Sarada indignantly. “He belongs to me!”

“Sa-chan—”

“But he  _said_.”

Sakura pauses.

“Who said?” she asks.

Sarada points at the cat, who blinks up innocently at Sakura. “He talks. He says he can’t stay forever, because he needs to live outside and hunt scary things and he doesn’t want to scare me. But he says I can call him mine and that he’ll come and play with me as much as he can.”

Sakura stares, reconsiders her previous thought. Perhaps it is one of Sasuke’s cats. Maybe it let itself be brought inside because it has a message for her from Sasuke.

Sarada looks pleadingly up at her. “Can he stay with me tonight?”

“Let me talk to him first,” says Sakura. “Before we decide anything. Okay?”

Sarada brightens, because it’s not a no and already better than what she was expecting.

“Don’t get too excited,” Sakura warns. “Now go clean your room and let us talk.”

“ _Mama._ ”

But Sarada obeys, giving the cat a final pat on the head before pattering down the hall to her room. Sakura listens for the sound of her door opening and closing before turning her attention back to the cat.

She does not think that his stare has wavered from her once. Definitely a  _ninneko_.

“Thank you for being so patient with her,” she says to the cat. “I know it can’t have been very comfortable, being carried like that. She’s strong for such a little girl.”

“Just like her mother,” says the cat in Sasuke’s voice.

Sakura freezes, because it has been too long since she has heard his voice and because  _why is he a cat?_

“Sasuke-kun?” she whispers, partly to prevent Sarada from overhearing but mostly because she does not expect to be answered.

The-cat-that-sounds-like-Sasuke puts his front paws on her knees and stretches, gently knocking his soft-furred head against her forehead.

“Hello, Sakura.”

Sakura gapes, having lost the capacity to function in any meaningful way.

“What are you—did you tell— _why?_ ”

Sasuke makes a deep trilling noise that makes his whole body vibrate, gently headbutting against her shoulder again before returning to a seated position.

“I visited Neko Baa a few days ago to ask her for this trick. I know she’s been hiding it for a while now.” His whiskers twitch. “As far as Sarada is concerned, I have no proper name.”

“You should tell her.”

He ducks his head in refusal. “Sakura, she is nearly seven. She is intelligent. She will either dismiss my claim outright or demand proof by asking me to turn back to a human. And I cannot make my presence known.”

Sakura purses her lips in disapproval but does not pursue the argument.

“But then why are you here, Sasuke-kun?”

His mission isn’t over, if he’s sneaking around wearing a cat’s form. That much is obvious.

Sasuke’s tail flicks back and forth and he looks down at his paws.

“I missed you,” he says. “And…I’ve heard from my scouts about how much she likes cats. I wanted to play with her.”

Sakura is silent, because what is there to say?

“And you couldn’t come back human?” she asks, knowing that it is futile even to ask.

He shakes his head. “Too many eyes. But no one suspects a cat. Especially not one prowling the grass around the neighborhood.”

“They might suspect a talking cat.”

“Meow,” he says. It is utterly unconvincing.

Sakura sighs.

“How long?”

“Just for a few days. I’m not sure I could last much longer. I think I underestimated how active Sarada is.” There’s a rueful note in Sasuke’s voice that makes Sakura smile, despite her sorrow and frustration.

“She doesn’t really stop,” she agrees. Then, she holds her arms open, and Sasuke climbs into them. She cuddles him close, feeling the rapid too-light heartbeat of a cat, so unlike her husband’s. It is not what she wants, but it is close enough for now.

She hears Sarada coming back down the hall, despite her daughter’s best efforts to be soundless from the halting pauses every two steps, and releases him. Sets him back down and stands to return to her vegetables, rubbing at her eyes.

“Mama?” Sarada sticks her head back around the door. “My room’s clean. Did you and Mr. Kitty talk? Can he stay?”

Sakura looks at him, raising her eyebrows at the moniker. Sasuke looks skywards but does not respond.

“He can stay,” says Sakura, resuming her slicing. “But only because I got to have a little talk with him. I can’t promise about any other animals you find.”

She gives Sasuke a stern look, to convey the fact that if Sarada starts bringing in strays, she knows exactly who to blame.

Sasuke’s ears flicker and his eyes narrow, as if to say  _please, like I would influence her to such bad habits_ , so Sakura knows he gets the picture.

“Yes!” Sarada punches the air, face flushed and smiling so brightly that Sakura’s answering smile is only a little strained by the secret she has to keep.

Sasuke rises and pads over to Sarada. She picks him up and kisses him on the forehead; he nuzzles her cheek and purrs, which makes her giggle.

“Can he sleep in my room?” She asks Sakura, turning to face her, arms around Sasuke’s middle, squeezing him a little too tightly.

“Sure, honey. But put him down, I don’t think he likes being carried like that.”

–

Sakura has moved from the living room to the bedroom, reading before she turns in for the night, when she hears movement coming from within the house. She put Sarada to bed hours ago, and a quick chakra reading indicates that there is no foreign presence that would cause concern.

Which leaves only one other individual.

Her door is not entirely closed and she watches as Sasuke squeeze through the gap. He comes closer to the bed, so that she can see nothing of him but the tip of his tail, and then he jumps and is up on the bed, molding himself against her thigh.

“Did it take Sarada long to fall asleep?” she asks, fighting down an impulse to scratch him behind his ears, especially when they keep twitching.

“No. She was tired,” he says, yawning, revealing sharp white teeth. “But she is a very light sleeper. I thought I woke her up every time I so much as stretched.”

Sakura nods. “She has been for a while.”

Sasuke does not immediately respond. Sakura knows he won’t ask when the change between the baby and the child occurs. She almost tells him, anyways, but bites the answer back.

“I’ll go back in the morning,” he says. “So I can be there when she wakes up.”

“That would be good.”

He rests his head on her lap. Sakura gives in to the whim and pets him on the head. He blinks, but otherwise shows no signs of annoyance.

“It would be unwise of me to turn back into a human right now.”

Sakura raises her eyebrows. “I’m not asking you.”

“I know. But I want to.”

Sakura’s silence is her only concession to her own wish. She turns off the lamp and settles in, turning down the covers on his side of the bed, so that Sasuke might curl up there. He obliges, though he does so in such a way that he fits against her as she lies on her side, warm against her stomach.

“Are you comfortable like that?” she asks.

“As a cat? Not very. But it is manageable. If you mean the bed, very. Thank you.”

This is not right—wrong shape, strange timing, one of the more farcical moments in her life thus far.

But it is  _something_ , at least.


	2. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that he is his own family’s pseudo-pet, there are some indignities he cannot avoid.

Fortunately for all parties involved, it does not take Sakura long to convince Sarada that, as nice as Mr. Kitty is, he is not a normal cat and cannot be treated as such. He is a special cat, one who makes decisions on his own, and does not need a scratching post or catnip the way ordinary cats do.

Sarada accepts these facts with a childish practicality—though Sakura guesses the fact that Sarada’s allowance is safe from the realities of cat food and litter comes as a relief.

(Sakura has to stuff her face with rice the first time Sarada asks about litterboxes. Sasuke’s face had contorted into an expression of such absolute disgust she had been quite unable to help herself.)

And so ‘Mr. Kitty’ becomes an irregular member of their household, coming and going as time permits. It does not entirely fill Sakura’s loneliness—a husband with four legs and a tail is only marginally better than no husband at all. But in other ways his presence does become a comfort.

Sarada adores him; her happiness bursting through every fiber of her being. And Sasuke’s affection for her is every bit as great. He will curl up in her room while she does her homework or spend hours running around the garden or through the woods with her. Though Sakura does not allow herself to worry too much about Sarada’s safety, trusting her daughter’s competence and the watchful eye of the village, the knowledge that Sasuke is looking after her eases a pressure she didn’t even know was there.

And even if it is not the same as having him home and human, having him back in her space is nothing she will ever protest against. She looks forward to their late night conversations when he nudges his way into their room after Sarada has fallen asleep. How he lies against her, filling in the missing pieces of the events Sarada babbled at dinner, always in awe of what a clever and imaginative daughter they have.

It is not ideal—certainly the strangeness of the situation still strikes Sakura at odd moments—but Sasuke is managing to steal away some time with his daughter despite their circumstances. It is a poor balm, this reality, but it is soothing, regardless.

And, well—

Sakura has to admit: the stories are almost too good to miss. When Sasuke is home for good and all is finally explained, they are going to need such absurdity.

* * *

The trouble with trying to spend more hours at home to be available for one’s offspring is that both Kakashi and Tsunade seems to see it as an opportunity to outsource nearly all of their paperwork to Sakura at any given moment. They claim that they only do so to help her—it is after all an important task that can be done anywhere and will add to her hours—but Sakura knows better.

She  _knows_.

Taking a nap in the middle of the afternoon was not something she intended on doing, but when one is scanning absolute minutiae of details of confidentiality contracts and building contracts and form complaints and God knows what else, can she be blamed that she nods off?

Either way, her respite does not last long; she is roused unwittingly from her doze by a piercing cry.

For a moment, to her disoriented mind, she is a new mother again, and her baby is awake and crying. Her drowsy subconscious tells her to let Sasuke handle it; it’s his turn.

She pinches herself to come back to the present, and listens more closely to the sound, trying to determine what it is.

It is caterwauling, all right. She was not wrong on that count.

Over the cries, however, she can hear Sarada’s voice, sing-song and soothing.

…which means that her husband is the one making the noise from hell.

Oh dear.

The stacks of papers tremble and slide about her desk as Sakura pushes off and steps out of her room. The cries are coming even louder, and seem to be coming from the bathroom.

The door is closed, so Sakura knocks before testing the knob. It turns and she opens the door a crack.

“Sa-chan, what is going on in there? Can I come in?”

“Uh, in a second!” Her daughter sounds harried, which is not good. “Mr. Kitty keeps splashing everywhere.”

Sakura opens the door then, half-expecting a flood.

The damage is not as bad as she feared. The tile is not too wet, which is a miracle as the tub is not only full of water but also brimming with Sarada’s favorite bubble bath. Sarada is not sitting in the bath but standing, clad in her swimsuit and determinedly scrubbing Sasuke with a loofah, while he shrieks piteously under her ministrations.

Sakura quickly grabs a towel from the rack, and crosses through the room, throwing it over Sasuke and lifting him bodily out of the water.

“ _Sarada_! What were you doing?”

Sarada’s shoulders hunch up, and she sinks down into the bath, looking mulish.

“We were playing in the forest and the trees were oozing and some of the stuff got on him. He was all  _sticky_ and  _dirty_  and he wouldn’t wash himself, so I thought I’d clean him up.”

“And he didn’t stop you?” She looks down at Sasuke, bundled in her arms, with raised brows.

Sarada shakes her head, spraying droplets of water. “No. He didn’t even talk. He just kept  _meowing_.”

“I’m not surprised.” Sakura looks down at Sasuke, trying to decide if he needs more washing. Sasuke blinks up at her, fur plastered against him; suds still in his ears, but otherwise clean. She scratches under his chin; his eyes drift shut, and his weight grows heavier as his tension leaves him.

“Sa-chan, the next time he gets dirty, just let me know and I’ll rinse him off. I don’t think the bubble bath is very good for him.”

“But he smells good!” protests Sarada, though she isn’t looking at Sakura as she says it, staring at the swirls of bubbles still thick in the water, and Sakura knows she is listening.

She smiles at that, and leans down to plant a kiss on Sarada’s wet hair. “It was good of you to try to take responsibility for him. But next time, ask me first.”

“I know. Sorry, Mama.”

“No harm done. I’ll finish rinsing him off and  _you_ ,” she reaches out and taps Sarada’s nose. “Work on getting  _yourself_ clean, young lady.”

Sarada giggles. “Okay.”

* * *

Sasuke does not speak to her until they are outside, and Sakura is rinsing the residual suds out of his fur with the garden hose.

“Thank you,” he says. “I thought I was going to drown.”

“You could have asked her to stop,” Sakura points out mildly. “She does think you’re a nin cat, after all.”

“I  _tried_ , but she’s our daughter; you know how she gets when she has a plan. She was determined, and once I was in the water this body’s instincts took over.” He looks annoyed. Or at least more annoyed than usual. “Cats  _really_ don’t like water.”

Sakura only laughs and bestows a dry kiss to the top of his head, between his ears. She then unfolds the fresh towel that has been resting by her side and throws it over him, and starts to rub him dry. He permits her ministrations, enduring with a sainted expression on his face. She offers to get the blow dryer; he swats half-heartedly at her, claws barely even unsheathed.

“Mama?”

Clean and fully dressed, Sarada steps out of into the backyard. Both of her hands are behind her back.

“Yes, Sa-chan?”

Sarada comes over and looks down at Sasuke. “Sorry for the bath, Mr. Kitty,” she says, contrite. “I didn’t want you to mess up the house.”

Sasuke makes a purr of assent in the back of his throat, and Sarada brightens, recognizing the easy forgiveness.

“I have a present for you. To make up for dumping you in the bathtub.” She takes her hands out from behind her, revealing a bright red ribbon clutched in one hand. “Can I put it on you?”

She’s talking to Sasuke, but she’s looking at Sakura, gauging her permission. Sakura holds up her hands.

“Don’t look at me. This is entirely up to him,” says Sakura, looking down at Sasuke, curious to gauge his reaction.

Sasuke, to Sakura’s amusement, only gives a tiny huff before tipping up his chin, acquiescing.


	3. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That jutsu might be having a few side effects. Or: Sasuke breaks his rule because he desperately needs a bath.

To say that Sasuke likes being a cat would be…overstatement, to put it politely.

He is happy for the time it gives him with his daughter; watching her grow and making her smile. He enjoys seeing his wife in the flesh, being able to speak with her face to face. To be close enough to touch her. It isn’t the touch he craves, but it is more than what they have had in a long while, and if he takes the opportunity to slip under her nightshirt while she’s lying in bed, well, who can blame him?

She grumbles and calls him an opportunistic brat when he behaves so impishly. But she is never inclined to push him away—quite the opposite in fact. She’ll curl around him, pulling him closer to her, so he enjoys the warmth of her skin as best he can.

But it is tiring, to hold that form for so long. No matter how willing he is to stay in a form that allows him to be with his family, his duty is to create a world where they will be safe and then return to them, as whole as possible. And risking his health by staying in a questionable jutsu for any longer than necessary is not the way to do it.

However, no matter how careful he is, something of a cat’s nature must still have imprinted into his brain, for the first time he breaks the jutsu, it is because he is in  _desperate_  need of a bath.

–

He arrives late to his home, long after Sarada has gone to bed, stained with old blood and in a very bad temper. He was ambushed on his way back, and forced to kill. It is his duty but there is still no accomplishment, no reason behind it.

He pushes his way through the sliding door, nudging it closed once he is inside, though he has to stretch up on his hind legs to bat the latch down. He might have transformed into a human for this task alone, so frustrating it is to this body, but mindfulness keeps him from doing so. No need to let the neighbors know.

The ache that recurs when he is in this form for too long is starting to build behind his eyes, and his fur is so sticky with blood that he is certain Sakura won’t let him anywhere near the bed unless he cleans up.

Were she awake, he might ask for her assistance. But the light in their room is off, and he would rather not disturb her rest if he doesn’t have to.

Especially not for something as trifling as a shower.

Grateful for the night vision natural to felines, Sasuke pads into their attached bathroom. There is no way he can operate the taps without thumbs, and so it is only with a small tug of conscientiousness that he transforms back into a human.

He takes a moment to fiddle with the shower controls, remembering how they work, and then he gratefully shucks off his dirt-smeared and bloody clothes, piling them into one corner of the tile floor.

The water feels incredible on his skin, and he feels his muscles loosen under the hot torrents. It has been far too long since he felt this comfortable with himself and his surroundings.

Still, even in his own house, he is still alert, and so he is able to hear the rustle of the bed covers in their room, and Sakura’s near soundless footsteps as she moves. He resists the urge to poke his head out from behind the glass shower door when her fuzzy form steps into the light and draws closer. No matter that she’s seen him at his most vulnerable more times than he cares to remember; at least he should try to carry some semblance of his old ‘cool’ attitude, at least.

Of course, a nagging little voice at the back of his head points out that she would probably laugh at him if she could hear that logic. He ignores it.

Mostly.

He sees her outline, pink and white, come right up next to the steamed glass. Her expressions are blurred, but clear enough that he can see her smiling.

“Hello,” he speaks first, because who is he kidding about being cool?

“Hello to you too, handsome.” Her voice drifts through, curious but not urgent, and very sleepy. “Didn’t you have a little rule about coming back human?”

“This couldn’t wait.”

“I can tell.” She’s leaning against the wall now, amused. “How on earth did you get in?”

“Sliding door.”

“Were you human? If so, that would be very foolish of you. It will look very bad if a strange man is visiting in the middle of the night. I might cause a scandal, cuckolding my absent husband in our bed.”

Sasuke notes that Sakura does not sound particularly concerned by her own dire prediction. Maybe she thinks she’s dreaming.

“I came in as a cat and I remembered to put down the blinds,” he replies. “No one will notice.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Sakura’s head tilts. “You still surprised me; you’ve been so particular about your rules. I hope you aren’t getting careless.”

Sasuke scoffs at that, prompting soft laughter from her.

“Really,  _anata_ , what are you doing? Your clothes are a mess.”

“Got into a fight. There’s more blood than usual to clean off.”

“How much of it is yours?”

Sasuke nearly smiles at how much more awake she sounds, her voice sharper. He can almost see a faint green glow emanating from her hands. It has been a long time since he needed any demonstration of Sakura’s protectiveness, but that hardly means he’s not gratified to see it.

“Only a few scratches. Nothing that won’t heal in a couple of days.”

The green glow fades away.

“You better not be lying.” She sounds a little grumpier, and he has to fight not to let her see his smirk.

“Come in and see for yourself,” he challenges.

She laughs again.

“You’re really pushing it this time,” she remarks, though she also sounds appropriately regretful.

“Perhaps. But it has been some time.”

“ _Anata_ , the last time was just a month ago. Don’t be coy. Besides, now might not be the best time; I don’t think I would really be in the mood.”

“Pity. Long day at the hospital?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing like that. It has more to do with you eating that mouse the other week.”

“I did not  _eat_  the mouse,” snaps Sasuke, wiping away some of the steam on the inside of the door so his grinning wife can see how affronted he is. “I carried it out of the house. Because cats don’t have thumbs. Because  _you_  asked me.”

She does not contest the point, and Sasuke lets the glass fog up again.

She is silent for a little while. He continues the task of washing himself.

Then she shifts, and shadows of her fingers reach up and press lightly again the glass.

“You’ll need to change back before morning. But why don’t you come to bed when you’re done?”

He turns to look at her. Her face is smooth and calm. But there is a look in her eyes that he recognizes.

“Aa.”

She is already moving even before he gives assent, retreating back into the soft darkness of their bedroom.

Sasuke finishes quickly enough, turning off the water and reaching out to grab a clean green towel off the rack. In the adjoining sink area, he sees that his travelling clothes and his knapsack are missing—Sakura having apparently carried it out, though not before taking out his toothbrush and placing it back in their ceramic holder, right next to hers.

His old nightclothes are also waiting, neatly folded, soft and blue and familiar. The ones he didn’t take with him.

He moves quickly through the nightly routine, both normal and yet strange for how long he has gone without it. Then, satisfied, he turns off the light, and moves back into their master bedroom. Fortunately, this space is still familiar, though it is strange to climb in, feel like he is actually taking up space, as opposed to the last few times he has slept in it.

Sakura has already burrowed under the blankets by the time he has joined her. He does not see the glimmer of her eyes, but she is clearly and obviously playing possum.

He doesn’t mind, instead reaching out and pulling her towards him, reveling in how much smaller she is, how easy it is to mold her body against his.

“Mfmph,  _anata_ , too tight.”

“Sorry.” He loosens his grip, and she turns in his arms, pressing her face to his neck, her breath warm against the hollow of his throat.

“This is nice,” she murmurs. “Having you back in here again.”

“Hm. Thank you for taking my clothes.”

“You can wash them after Sarada goes to school.”

“Hm. Thank you.”

She kicks his ankle lightly. “Don’t thank me. It’s your house too.”

“Still. You are being remarkably lenient today.”

“Let’s just say I’ve missed you.”

She presses closer, and he lets her, while his good arm slides down her side. Then, a little more boldly, slides his hand right up under her shirt. She doesn’t move, but he can  _hear_  her rolling her eyes.

“ _Really_ , Sasuke-kun?”

“Hm. You’re warm.”

“When you come back, we are going to run a few tests, to check if this jutsu has any long term side effects.”

“For what? Liking your skin?”

“Hardly. There are a few other characteristics that you have been showing. Like the biting.”

“I have not.”

“Definitely more nippy.”

He huffs into her hair. “You are so annoying.”

Her lips curve into a smile. “I do my best. Don’t worry’ I actually don’t mind. I’m always glad to have you back, no matter what form you take.”

“Good to hear. And this one is your favorite, right?”

“…”

“Sakura?”

“Yes, darling. I always prefer the real you. Every time.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
